My first poem shared here and it’s dear to me. Although not my story, the subjects speak to me and I connect with their sense of lacking. Written with one of my favorite lyrics by Tracy Chapman in mind, “If Time Is What You Need, Baby I’ll Stop The Clocks,” Clocks has become a favorite piece of mine. Peace~


They bring her to us,
Shoving her blue,
Cold lips onto
Our lazy chests.
All I can hear is,
"Time of death, 1:25 a.m."
I see my wife; her eyes
Are frozen in time, tears
Wading in the ducts,
Afraid to fall.
We prayed loud prayers
To our God, He
Must've been asleep.

"But, she had your eyes."
I hear my wife whisper this
To the air surrounding us,
Searching for its echo.
I chase it with my nose,
Picking up a funk that
Won't soon wash off.
"But, she had your eyes."

We can try again.
We can try again.
We can...
My lips can no longer
Move. I look at my wife,
She's fingering temple
Hair, curling it at its edges.
"Time of death, 1:25 a.m."
Someone should stop
The clocks.

©Tremaine L. Loadholt 23February16

Written by

I’m more than breath & bones, I’m nectar in waiting — Owner ACG •Editor PSILY •Writing for the cosmos. •

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